The metamorphosis of Ahuvah Gray, a black American who was once a Christian minister and is now an Orthodox Jew.

As I follow Ahuvah Gray along the narrow stairway leading to her apartment, and step up into the little light-filled penthouse that is her home above the rooftops of Bayit Vegan, what comes to mind is the childhood classic, A Little Princess, by Frances Hodgson Burnett. In that famous tale, the heroine dwells cozily in an attic room above the rooftops of London, and looks out from her oasis upon the world below. Here, through windows on every side, it's the fast-moving clouds of a rainy winter morning in Israel that adorn the horizon, and the branches of a Jerusalem pine tree that brush up against the opaquely luminous rectangle of skylight.

Ahuvah Gray herself -- a black American who was once a Christian minister and is now an Orthodox Jew -- does look, in fact, like some exotic sort of princess, with her high-cheek-boned delicacy, and long hair, and regal bearing.

“Just look at this,” she exclaims, opening the door to her porch and gesturing me outside into the damp, brisk air. “Isn't this something?” Far off on the distant skyline to our right lie the walls of the Old City under the receding storm, and way over to the east, the dimly visible mountains of Jordan looming like gray mist over the Dead Sea. “This view from my porch always reminds me of sitting on my grandmother's lap when I was four years old, in Mound Bayou, Mississippi -- that's when she first started teaching us children the psalms of King David. She'd recite Psalm 24:1, 'The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof, the world, and they that dwell therein.' Here I am, and I still can't believe my eyes after all these years -- the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living, and I always think, Thank you, grandmother, for such a beautiful gift.” Back inside, serving me tea, Ahuvah Gray speaks of that woman, the one who started her on the long journey that ultimately brought her to Israel, and to the Jewish people, and Judaism.

“My grandmother was my role model. All I remember of her was the chesed she did all day long. She was always cooking food for sick people and bringing it to them. And my mother, God bless her soul, she was my other role model. Throughout my childhood she would bring homeless people to our table. One time there was an old guy she brought in -- our table was hardly ever just us, it was always poor people sitting down with us -- and my sister Nellie made a face from the smell of that man. My mother gave her a look, and told her to never again do or say anything that could insult one of our guests. Today Nellie -- she lives in L.A. -- she's been doing the same thing now for the last twenty years, taking care of the poor and the homeless.

“I was born and raised in Chicago but when we were growing up, my parents would take us every summer to visit Grandmother in Mound Bayou, which was a small all-black town. Now, years later when I was working for Continental Airlines -- at first I was a stewardess, then a flight attendant supervisor, then I moved into sales and marketing, where I was able to make up my own work schedule -- every summer I'd make that trip to Mound Bayou to see Grandmother the way we always had when we were small. One summer morning when I arrived at her house and went looking for her, I saw that the door to her bedroom was standing open and that my grandmother, who was 78 at the time, was kneeling down by her bed praying fervently - she always turned up the volume, so to speak. I stood there by the door completely mesmerized for I don't know how long, and I finally said, 'Grandmother, at your age are you still getting down on your knees to pray?' She looked up and said, 'Dolores, this is the way I've prayed my whole life. It's the only way I know.'

“That was one of the most important moments in my life. It was a turning point. I was already a minister then, but that experience at the door to my grandmother's room gave me the stamina to commit my life to prayer.”

I ask her what that means in practical terms.

It takes me forever to go through the entire morning service in Hebrew and I love every minute of it.

“It means that I committed myself to have a designated time and place for prayer. The time was at five in the morning, and the place was under the blankets of my bed. That was the great thing about that job, I didn't have to be at any office at nine o'clock -- so I'd just pull the blanket up over my head and pray for hours; it was my favorite part of the day, every day. It still is. It takes me forever to go through the entire morning service in Hebrew and I love every minute of it. In any case, as I was saying, from that experience, seeing my elderly grandmother on her knees in prayer, from that moment on, I have had a life of prayer.”

“Under the blankets, you were in your own little synagogue?”

“Right. My own little synagogue. In those days, though, I didn't know anything about the Jewish way of davening Shacharis, Minchah, Maariv. But I had read in the Book of Psalms that King David prayed three times a day and I said to myself, if that's how King David prayed, then I'm going to pray three times a day, too.

“After my grandmother died a few years later, I started having a difficult time with Christian dogma. Now, when you're the minister of a Christian congregation, that's not the sort of thing you go around saying, so I kept it to myself as long as I could, until finally I had to publicly declare that I could no longer remain in the ministry. It simply did not seem like truth to me anymore.

“When I resigned from the ministry, I had no thought whatsoever of becoming a Jew. It wasn't on my mind at all. But ever since I was a teenager, I had felt an affinity for Jewish people. I had felt that affinity starting back when I was in seventh grade and had my first job working in the dress shop of a family named Greenberg. They used to invite me to their house for the Shabbat meals. I continued working for them until the Chicago riots, when their store was looted and trashed and they had to give up their business.

“I loved the Greenbergs and they loved me. We were like one family. I used to go there for Shabbat and then I'd go home and tell my mother all about it - what they were like, and that they had this funny looking bread. The only thing I didn't tell her was that they had wine. She would have plotzed, because my mother, may she rest in peace, she never had a drink in her life.

“That was my introduction to Jewish people, and from that time on, whenever Jewish holidays came around, I had this desire to be with Jewish people. And whenever I was in a bookstore, if there was a book in there about Jews or Judaism, it always caught my eye and I'd buy it.

“Long before the idea of conversion ever occurred to me, in my own prayers I'd stopped addressing God as three gods in one, the Trinity -- it made no sense to me. It didn't seem real. But I had found a church that believed in the oneness of God, and it was called the Straitway Church. One day this Jewish woman visited it and we started talking. That was Ruth Broyde Sharone, who wanted to find ways to bring about understanding between blacks and Jews. She and I visited a synagogue together once, and the Rabbi said he was going to have us imagine being at Mount Sinai when God gave the Ten Commandments. He led us through this visualization.

“I can't convey what I experienced that day. I'll just tell you that when he was done, I opened my eyes and there was Ruth, looking at me. I said, 'Ruth, I was there,' and she said, 'I know, Dolores.'

“The two of us, Ruth and I, we ended up working together. We organized an annual Passover tour to Israel for Christians and Jews together.”

I tell Ahuvah that I remember reading about that in The Jerusalem Post years ago.

“Yes, they wrote about it. It was eye-catching, you know, that Christians and Jews were doing this together. But it was during those early years in Israel that I experienced another turning point. On one particular trip, I had taken a group up north to the ancient city of Tzefat, and we were touring the old synagogues when I saw a Jewish siddur, a prayer book. Now I didn't really know what a Jewish prayer book was but I had always wanted to see one, so I picked it up to take a look. I started reading. I read Shema Yisrael, God is One. And it struck me: These are powerful. These are powerful prayers.”

With hindsight, I see how everything in my childhood, everything I experienced in my adult life, it was all pointing toward this, every part of it.

“So was it while you were on those Passover tours that you decided to convert?”

“No, I can't say it started then. With hindsight, I see how everything in my childhood, everything I experienced in my adult life, it was all pointing toward this, every part of it. When Ruth and I first joined together for the tours, she said to me, 'Now, there's just one thing, Dolores, that I've got to tell you. You must never try to convert me,' and I said, 'Don't you worry about it!' She had no idea yet, that that was just about the farthest thing from my mind!”

I give a laugh. “Little did she know, she was going to convert you!”

“No, that didn't happen either. Nobody converted me. Truth just became obvious, that's all I can say. And once I realized in what direction I had to go, I could no longer conduct the tours as a Christian. I was sorry to leave Ruth -- she was happy for me but felt she had lost a good liaison between Christians and Jews, because as a Christian minister, I was able to say things other people weren't. Christians trusted me. They listened when I told them that it was not the Jews who killed their messiah, and some of the other things they believe that are in part responsible for anti-Semitism. But I found my way, with God's help.”

“What was your reaction upon learning, later on, that according to Jewish tradition, the gesture of bowing down is reserved only for the Yom Kippur service?”

“It was very humbling. When I learned how to daven according to Jewish tradition, what was amazing to me was that although we prostrate ourselves on Yom Kippur in order to get closer to God, because it's such a powerful gesture, other than that we do not. Other than that, a Jew does not have to place himself in that position.”

“It's common knowledge that ever since the sixties and early seventies, when so many Jews were involved with the Civil Rights Movement, there has been a strange love/hate relationship between the two groups. From your present standpoint, Ahuvah, so what do you think it is, between blacks and Jews?”

“Look, in my family, I was brought up to believe that no man is better or worse than another, that we are all, every single one of us, children of God. I love my skin. I love the color of my skin. But I was brought up to believe that I am neither inferior nor superior.”

“So it must be that that religious viewpoint is so deeply ingrained in you, Ahuvah, that you're not conflicted about inferiority/superiority. So you bring that out in others. 'As in water, face to face, so does one heart reflect another.'”

“Well, I don't know. A few times, people have said to me, 'Oh, it must be so hard for you in that charedi community, being a black convert. Don't you encounter a lot of racial prejudice?' I just have to tell them, 'My dears, I have never in my life been given as much love.'

“That love from the Orthodox community started right when I decided to convert. I had run into a catch-22. In order to convert, it was required that I study at an Orthodox institution. Yet in order to enter an Orthodox institution I had to be Jewish! Nonetheless, there was a women's seminary called Nishmat that accepted me as a student. That place is run by one of the most amazing women one could ever hope to meet, Rabbanit Henkin. She had the amazing ability to nurture and mother every girl in that seminary.

“After learning for a year in Nishmat, the momentous day of my conversion arrived. It was an important day, to say the least, and I decided that after going to the mikveh, I was going to celebrate by going downtown and treating myself to a nice meal. However, one of the rebbetzins was very emphatic that I should come back to the beis midrash of the seminary afterwards. So after the mikveh, I went back to the seminary's beis midrash and when I entered, there was a huge sign that said, 'Siman tov vemazal tov.'

“I'll remember that day as long as I live. The American girls and the Israeli girls were all singing 'Siman tov, mazel tov,' and their voices, mingled together, sounded like an opera, or a symphony. They asked me to make a speech and the only thing I could think to say was, 'I don't think I've ever experienced such love before in my life. I think I'm beginning to understand the love between God and the Jewish people.'

“I've met converts from all over the world, and our stories are all the same although our faces and backgrounds are different. My roommate from Neve Yerushalayim was from Singapore. I've met converts from Germany, and Africa, from the Philippines, but we all have one heartbeat. We couldn't rest until we found our way to Judaism and Jewish observance. When I lecture I tell my audience that you can take a Jewish neshamah and put it into any kli (vessel). But that neshamah will not rest until it finds its way to Yiddishkeit.”

* * *

The interview seems to have come to a close. As I'm getting ready to go, I tell Ahuvah Gray what her apartment reminded me of when I first walked in.

“Oh, this apartment. That's a story. For another time. All I can say is, God gave me exactly what I needed. He always has and always will.”

“How do you account for your emuna [faith]?” I ask her.

“You have emunah, too, you know. Sometimes we just don't realize what we have. As I told you, I witnessed my grandmother's faith throughout my life and it was passed on, definitely. And almost as far back as I can remember, I've always put things into what I think of as my God Box.” I asked what that is.

“Well, I'll give you an example. One night around five years ago, not long after I got this apartment, the telephone rang at 4 a.m. Now, anybody who lives far away from his family can tell you that anything like that's going to make you nervous. When I left America I left my entire family behind -- I haven't seen them for four years now -- and so as I reached for the phone I was already dreading whatever I was going to hear. It was my sister Nellie, and sure enough, she had bad news. Our beloved brother, Ezra -- a young man, he's my baby brother -- had had a massive heart attack.

“When I hung up that phone, I started davening. I davened, and davened, and kept davening, and crying. I was begging God till the sun came up. 'Please, God, save Ezra. Don't let Ezra die.'

“Then all of a sudden, it hit me. I thought to myself, 'Wait a minute,' and I said, 'For heaven's sake, what in the world am I doing? Who am I to tell God what to do?'

“So then, I prayed, 'God, You formed Ezra in our mother's womb. You created him, You formed him. It's You Who gave him his soul. It's You Who gave him life. So if it's time for You to take him back, I let go. I let go, God.' That's how I put Ezra in my God Box. And then I added, 'And let Nellie get it.'”

“Let Nellie get it?”

“Right, I said, 'God, let Nellie get it.'”

“Did she get it?”

“She got it.”

“And Ezra....?”

“Oh, he's fine. Nellie called me after three days to say he was sitting up in bed cracking jokes. Look, all of this is my way of expressing the concept of the Yitzchak principle, when Avraham was going to sacrifice his only son. Our Sages of blessed memory teach us that Avraham Aveinu was willing to go to any length to teach us to do a mitzvah.”

“So what does that have to do with the 'God Box'?”

“It's that when I love something very dearly, I'm willing to release it to God.”

I get my coat on, she calls a taxi, then I follow her back down the stairway.

My mind's on my mother, ill in Los Angeles.

God, please, I'm thinking. Let me get it, too. The cold air hits, I climb into the cab, then Ahuvah Gray calls, “L'hitraot!” and disappears upstairs.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 15

(15)
Dorothy,
May 15, 2009 12:19 AM

I finally met Ahuva

I met Ahuva last week. She was honouring my uncle who met her several years ago in Israel.
She is a beautiful, majestic and humble person. I found her story very inspiring. I could have listened to her forever.

(14)
Yoka,
December 23, 2004 12:00 AM

terrific read

It was wonderful to read what a powerful story.
What I don't understand is why keep calling yourself a convert. I thought once you converted none should remind you that you are a convert. You are a Jew period.
May Hashem continue to bless you.

(13)
Elisheva Margaret Wisbey,
December 23, 2004 12:00 AM

Heart healing a true blessing

Your shareing of your story has touched my heart and helped to mend the pain held there of the longing while being told that I was not very bright. I know now that yes I was and am different and many of the happenings for you are as for me So many would rob us of this.Praise the Mighty ONE of Israel. He walks us at a pace that we can keep up with HIS glory to behold. Please contune the inspring work HE has set befor you
Elisheva

(12)
T.E.N,
December 22, 2004 12:00 AM

Interesting!

I don't know,but I guess her storey was meant for me to read this day?????????????????????-Good article!

(11)
Tzvi,
December 22, 2004 12:00 AM

Pure Nobility

Although I have not met Ahuva Gray face to face, it is self-evident that she is a noble of Klal Yisrael. Reading this piece served to confirm what I already knew, but needed to read for myself. We are blessed to have Ahuva in our midst.

(10)
Rabbi Ted Sanders,
December 21, 2004 12:00 AM

Fantastic story

More power to you!

(9)
Ashne,
December 20, 2004 12:00 AM

Remarkable lady

I met Ahuva Gray when she came to Cape Town a few years back. She is quite a remarkable lady and I take my hat off to her. She gave me as well as the community so much inspiration.

(8)
noelle stills,
December 20, 2004 12:00 AM

you go girl !!

You are to be commended for your courage and strength . Your story is inspiring and I am glad you had a positive conversion experience.I am so happy for you.

(7)
Ilana,
December 20, 2004 12:00 AM

Shalom Ahuvah

I am also an orthodox convert who has strayed into non observance but am making my way back slowly but surely, I hope with Hashem's help.
I am a single Mum and my 17 month old son's father is African. I have known so many positive things about being Jewish and yet in my life teaching in a NSW country high school it is horrendous the amout of prejudice that some Christians have against us and how they feel a need to either "convert" to their way of belief or if they don't succeed to isolate us.
I have been reinspired by your strength and emunah. Thank you and Hashem should bless you.
Ilana

(6)
betti miner,
December 20, 2004 12:00 AM

my master story!!

Thank you for the beautiful story about Ahuvah Gray. This could be my story as I chose Judaism 11 years ago too. I was not "converted", but chose along with my husband. We had long and serious talks and decided that it was right and have never looked back once. We lost our Christian friends but we joined a family that welcomed us with open arms. Thank you,

(5)
andrea simantov,
December 19, 2004 12:00 AM

honesty. eloquence.

living in the rough-and-tumble world of jerusalem, it takes more and more to make me cry these days. but ahuvah gray has done it. i've heard her story before. and a few times before that. today, however, the picture of her God-loving grandmother setting an example of prayer and continual connectedness made me, too, yearn for relatives long-gone and opened a flood-gate of tears.

ahuvah's story makes me, on this cold afternoon in jerusalem, grateful for the birthright called 'judaism.' she has forced me to look that much deeper, cherish what i find and not take it for granted. because by delving that much deeper - - into prayer and observance - - a wonderful gift remains to be discovered, as described by grey. how can i not be grateful and humbled by the 'reminder'?

thank you, sarah shapiro.

(4)
Deborah J Greenhill,
December 19, 2004 12:00 AM

This is almost exactly my story of conversion!

Blessings,
Thanks for posting this article. I too, was a minister of the Christian faith, and today I am a Jew! I gave up all that other stuff and began to really enjoy life as a Jew!
Deborah J Greenhill, ND, PhD

(3)
Jennifer Rudner,
December 19, 2004 12:00 AM

WONDERFUL INSPIRATIONAL STORY

Welcome into our hearts. May you grow from strength to strength and may Hashem protect you.

(2)
basyaleah rosen,
December 19, 2004 12:00 AM

This story about the life of Ahuvah Gray is so amaizing. Converts are for sure G-d's favorate people!!

(1)
Anna,
December 19, 2004 12:00 AM

What a great story !

Like Ahuva, I am very drawn to Judaism, but I want to have been BORN Jewish, not just be 1/8 as I am !

Learning about Judaism from Aish has been a real blessing; even if it makes me really jealous of people lucky to be born Jewish.I can certainly understand the friend's feelings about attempts at conversion; I find the attitude of some well-meaning Christians appallingly patronising in that respect, but I obviously don't need to tell you that !

One point; the attic in A Little Princess was not exactly 'cozy'; it was freezing, unheated and bleak & a horrible place to be.

I've been striving to get more into spirituality. But it seems that every time I make some progress, I find myself slipping right back to where I started. I'm getting discouraged and feel like a failure. Can you help?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Spiritual slumps are a natural part of spiritual growth. There is a cycle that people go through when at times they feel closer to God and at times more distant. In the words of the Kabbalists, it is "two steps forward and one step back." So although you feel you are slipping, know that this is a natural process. The main thing is to look at your overall progress (over months or years) and be able to see how far you've come!

This is actually God's ingenious way of motivating us further. The sages compare this to teaching a baby how to walk. When the parent is holding on, the baby shrieks with delight and is under the illusion that he knows how to walk. Yet suddenly, when the parent lets go, the child panics, wobbles and may even fall.

At such times when we feel spiritually "down," that is often because God is letting go, giving us the great gift of independence. In some ways, these are the times when we can actually grow the most. For if we can move ourselves just a little bit forward, we truly acquire a level of sanctity that is ours forever.

Here is a practical tool to help pull you out of the doldrums. The Sefer HaChinuch speaks about a great principle in spiritual growth: "The external awakens the internal." This means that although we may not experience immediate feelings of closeness to God, eventually, by continuing to conduct ourselves in such a manner, this physical behavior will have an impact on our spiritual selves and will help us succeed. (A similar idea is discussed by psychologists who say: "Smile and you will feel happy.")

That is the power of Torah commandments. Even if we may not feel like giving charity or praying at this particular moment, by having a "mitzvah" obligation to do so, we are in a framework to become inspired. At that point we can infuse that act of charity or prayer with all the meaning and lift it can provide. But if we'd wait until being inspired, we might be waiting a very long time.

May the Almighty bless you with the clarity to see your progress, and may you do so with joy.

In 1940, a boatload 1,600 Jewish immigrants fleeing Hitler's ovens was denied entry into the port of Haifa; the British deported them to the island of Mauritius. At the time, the British had acceded to Arab demands and restricted Jewish immigration into Palestine. The urgent plight of European Jewry generated an "illegal" immigration movement, but the British were vigilant in denying entry. Some ships, such as the Struma, sunk and their hundreds of passengers killed.

If you seize too much, you are left with nothing. If you take less, you may retain it (Rosh Hashanah 4b).

Sometimes our appetites are insatiable; more accurately, we act as though they were insatiable. The Midrash states that a person may never be satisfied. "If he has one hundred, he wants two hundred. If he gets two hundred, he wants four hundred" (Koheles Rabbah 1:34). How often have we seen people whose insatiable desire for material wealth resulted in their losing everything, much like the gambler whose constant urge to win results in total loss.

People's bodies are finite, and their actual needs are limited. The endless pursuit for more wealth than they can use is nothing more than an elusive belief that they can live forever (Psalms 49:10).

The one part of us which is indeed infinite is our neshamah (soul), which, being of Divine origin, can crave and achieve infinity and eternity, and such craving is characteristic of spiritual growth.

How strange that we tend to give the body much more than it can possibly handle, and the neshamah so much less than it needs!